


Peace

by motherstone



Series: Liminal stories [11]
Category: Amulet (Graphic Novels)
Genre: Depressive Thoughts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, but ey we need something nice once in a while, no one gets hurt! Especially not Trellis!, ok but like seriously amulet fic writers only know ONE location and that is the Luna Moth, or where a fic Trellis is introspective, shocker of me I know, so many shit happened on that airship, super ambiguous timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 11:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherstone/pseuds/motherstone
Summary: Unable to fall asleep, Trellis thinks.
Relationships: Emily Hayes & Trellis
Series: Liminal stories [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/831852
Kudos: 5





	Peace

His fingers are starting to go numb.

A side effect of being outside the ship really, the cold air permeating deep into his bones, the biting wind flowing through his hair, his ears. At least Emily had the fortune being asleep through such discomfort; she was exhauted, both emotionally and physically after their talk that lasted well deep imto the night. 

It's not like there was anyone else to talk to, considering everyone else was asleep. Even Enzo had set the ship to autopilot, the lack of vigilance which he deeply disapprove of ("were there ever a time you are not paranoid?" They have disdainfully asked). But even on the context of availability, neither he nor she will talk to anyone else to begin with; the very topic of their discussion can only be understood and accepted by the two of them alone.

He was equally, if not more, wrung out himself. But he can't bring himself to sleep, to retreat to the warm comforts of his bed just yet, not when his can feel anxiety and dread buzzing throughout his veins. There's so many things that has happened, but even now his day is not quite done, his mind a never ceasing, inescapable perilous whirpool of thoughts. Trellis is fairly certain it has kept him awake for hours, right up til morning now, gazing the sky that was once an impenetrable black, gradually lightening to a deep midnight blue; down below, the river winds its way among dark rocks and tall trees; the metal railings digging into his arms; the complaints and burns of his muscles. He has no doubt Emily would definitely regret falling asleep outside, much much later.

Looking down, he observes the calm look on her face. Like the many things about her, this was a subject of envy for him, although such feelings do not burn and poison as much as they used to. He wonders and has wondered, over and over, on how people manage to be able to sleep at night. To be willing to relax, to be ignorant of the world and its carnage and its problems, until the arrival of the next day. To have your slumber to be free from being plagued by horror, by bloody claws, by an unfeeling white mask, by the hands pinning you down as they break your bones or hit you with their fists. By cities set aflame and bodies turned to charred meat and everything else into ash. By they very thought, the very plausible outcome, that you'd fall; that you'd become everything that you hated and proving everything has said about you, was true.

Trellis wonders if he would be able to find peace.

A sliver of light shone upon him, snapping him out of his thoughts. No, not the figurative kind, although that comes later. But he was forced to shut his only working eye closed in temporary blindness. Being neck deep in thinking, he had failed to noticed that morning has arrived. His eye stays in a squint, slowly adjusting to the sudden change in lighting. Then it widens, appropriately in awe, the day's first light in front of him reflected in his iris.

He just stares. There was no words to describe. Perhaps, something like this is indescribable at all. There was no concrete revelation that came to him; simply a deep, profound awe. It's like the sun purged all of the shadows lurking in his mind, leaving behind clarity.

There was simply him, and this view. For once, for as long and as little he could recall, nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

Trellis feels the corners of his mouth curl, finally feeling the tiredness sinking into his bones, his soul. He'd regret this later alongside Emily, but he does not care, gently laying his head over his arms, sitting down on the floor. If he could see a view like this again, well, perhaps he does not mind sleeping once in a while.

  
Trellis closes his eyes, and falls asleep, letting warmth and tranquility roll over him.


End file.
